


Tomorrow

by SkyOfDust



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-04-24 07:25:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4910440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyOfDust/pseuds/SkyOfDust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I have absolutely NO idea where this comes from.<br/>I just wrote it quickly, because AGAIN my head was full of 'Fenris-and-Anders'-fate-is-just-so-damn-saaad'<br/>Maybe one day I'll write a happy ending. Or just a happy story. I'll try! (I never did, actually. In the dozens of novels I've written so far, there's always death and depsair. Maker, I'm hopeless.)</p><p>I always reply to your comments, so feel free to give your opinion.<br/>Thanks for reading!</p></blockquote>





	Tomorrow

Somehow, it was just another day. A normal day, perhaps.  
When Fenris woke up that morning, he had no idea it would come to this. He always knew he was wasting time, keeping this secret deep inside him.  
But every day he just thought « I'll tell him. Just not today. Maybe tomorrow.»  
After a while, there were no more tomorrows.  
He could remember all these mornings, waking up next to the mage, and looking at him, wanting to say the words. But he felt vulnerable. He knew how to crush hearts and was aware his own wouldn't be safe if he gave it away to a mage.  
The mage himself didn't say it often. But each time he did, Fenris felt his heart hammering in his chest. And answered nothing.  
Fenris was not a man of words and speeches. Anders was.  
He didn't listen to Anders' speeches. He should have heard.  
The plight of mages… he did not care. After some time it became obvious he had no reason to care anymore. There was no longer hatred in his heart.  
There was in Anders'.  
He should have heard.  
He shrugged when the mage said templars were sneaking around his clinic, though the fear that wormed its way in his heart seemed deadly. Not only for him. He tried to protect the man in his own way. Failure.  
Anders was careless. 'they have not caught me yet'  
The 'yet' was all it took.  
Now they had.  
Were there any tomorrows to say it, now? Fenris could say it to the emptiness. Because his bed was empty after that. So was his life.  
Fenris didn't need so many tomorrows. Just one. One day, to crush that bitch's heart. Meredith. Who killed Anders.  
“I love you” he said out loud. He grabbed his sword and left the mansion. This was never a home. His home was in Anders' hair, in Anders' smell, in Anders' skin. He could hear his voice in the wind, see him in a wound the mage took time to heal until it was a faded scar. He could smell him on a rainy day when all the herbs fragrance filled the air. He saw him in the dark feathers of a dark bird, in the red color of the blood, in a child's smile and in ruins. Anders was this. Smiles and ruins.  
Just another day, and he would join him.  
But for now, it was about vengeance.

**Author's Note:**

> I have absolutely NO idea where this comes from.  
> I just wrote it quickly, because AGAIN my head was full of 'Fenris-and-Anders'-fate-is-just-so-damn-saaad'  
> Maybe one day I'll write a happy ending. Or just a happy story. I'll try! (I never did, actually. In the dozens of novels I've written so far, there's always death and depsair. Maker, I'm hopeless.)
> 
> I always reply to your comments, so feel free to give your opinion.  
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
